Page 39 of Written in the Charts

I looked up at him in surprise. Was he putting it together already? I felt a shot of panic and nodded, biting my lip. “How did you know?” Fear clamped down on my tongue, refusing to let me say anything else. If Dr. Marshal knew about me and Evan, he would be forced to turn me in and end my residency. It was unethical. The state board would have a field day with it. Not to mention any legal charges I’d face because I was offering him treatment when I knew better.

“Well, we live near a base. Military people often get called to work away from home—that’s called deployment. And they are often secretive about their work, not because they’re hiding things but because they aren’t permitted to speak of it.” He smiled and sighed. “I dated an army girl once. Tough break, that was.”

My shoulders drooped farther. “So you understand. If he gets deployed, I’m alone. I’m stressing out so bad. Why didn’t he tell me? And right at Christmas, too?” I stuck my finger in my mouth and bit down on my nail. I was surprised I even had any nails left.

“Sounds like it’s a pretty serious relationship. I can see why you’re stressed out over your classes. If he leaves, your support system is taken away.” Cameron grimaced. “I’m sorry you’re going through this. If I can help with anything else, I will.” He shook his head. Pity—exactly what I did not need. Frustrated that I’d even opened my mouth, I sighed.

“There is one thing.”

“Anything,” he said, smiling.

“I’m pregnant.” The first tear rolled down my cheek, but I continued before he could respond. His mouth was open like he was going to say something, though. “And I’m terrified because this happened the first time.”

“First time?”

“When we were kids. I mean, not kids. I was eighteen. He was twenty. I got pregnant, and he shipped out and never told me. I lost the baby due to complications with placenta previa, and now I’m terrified to even tell him I’m pregnant. He is going to leave again, and I’m not going to be able to tell him because I’m afraid of losing this baby.”

“Whoa...”

My sentences ran together into a jumble of words that made no sense. I started sobbing and covered my face. He didn’t need to hear me blubbering on like an idiot, but there I was, dumping my life story on his lap like he was my therapist. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

I felt his hand on my back and then he touched my hand. I opened my eyes to see a tissue held out in front of me. Cameron crouched beside me, face at eye level. He smoothed his hand on my back in a circle the way Maggie would have. How did he know that was exactly what I needed?

“Alright, I see this is really bothering you.” He reached for another tissue. “First of all, I’m not an obstetrician so I can’t with any authority tell you about your risk in this pregnancy. Do you have a good doctor?”

I nodded, thinking of Derek. He was the best in town. No one else I’d trust my body to.

“What did they say?”

“He said that my risk is really low. Like, less than a twenty-percent chance of losing this baby. But that doesn’t stop the fear. I keep having nightmares that I wake up bleeding and I’ve lost the baby.”

“That’s what happened last time?” he asked, leaning his head to the side. He studied my face as I nodded. “Okay, well, have you expressed this fear to your doctor?”

Again, I nodded. “Yes, I have, and he tried to assure me that it wouldn’t happen. He offered me some drugs to help me not feel so anxious about it, but I need to have a clear head to study.”

I blew my nose. It was raw from all the crying and nose-blowing I’d been doing over the past few weeks. I was newly pregnant, and if this was what my emotions were going to be like, I didn’t even want to wake up until this kid was out of me.

“Alright, well, I can’t clear up the relationship stuff. You need to talk to him and tell him your fears and that you’re pregnant.” He stood and patted my shoulder. “I can help with the college, though. Let’s start meeting more frequently. Every Wednesday and every Saturday. How does that sound?”

I nodded and started collecting my books and notecards. “Thank you for listening. I feel embarrassed for breaking down. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner that I’m pregnant. It will likely end up affecting things close to the end of my residency. I was not planning this at all.”

Dr. Marshal took his seat behind his desk again and chuckled. “Things happen. I’m a pretty understanding guy. I think you’ll do fine.”

Everyone kept saying that, but I wasn’t so sure. I just needed to survive telling Evan. And now I knew it was time.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

Evan

Gypsy and I had a great time at dinner, but it was dessert I wanted. I pinned her against the wall, my hands sliding up her shirt as I devoured her mouth in a kiss. Her love handles begged to be grabbed, and her skin was hot beneath my touch. It was frigid outside, and I was ready to feel her heat wrapped around my cock.

“God, I want you.” I bit down on her neck, pressing my hips firmly against her body. My dick was hard, aching to slide into her. All night, she had taunted me with those damn pouty lips and shifty glances. When her hand slid down my pants in the elevator, I almost lost it. She knew how to push my buttons and keep me so worked up my balls felt like they’d explode from the pressure.

Gypsy tugged at my belt, so I afforded her the space to work as I grabbed her tit and squeezed. Her mouth around my cock would feel amazing right now. As it was, I had to explore with my hands because the room was so dim I could barely make out any shapes. When she gripped my dick inside my jeans, I tensed. The sensation was intense, making my body react.

“In the bedroom? It’s warmer in there.” She chuckled as she stroked me, and all I could think about was her dropping to her knees and sliding me into her mouth. I didn’t care how cold it was. My cock was going to burst. If she wanted the bedroom, I’d take her there. It didn’t matter to me as long as she killed this throbbing.

She wriggled around the corner of the room, backing down the hallway, and I stayed close, not letting an inch of space appear between us. My hands searched her back. I stretched the waistband of her skirt and grabbed her ass cheek. A nice, thick handful of her flesh helped me grind against her harder, and she pushed my hips back so she could undo the fly of my pants.

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